


\ i 




Price 15 Cts. 



Married 
to a Suflfra^ette 



^ Sketch of 
Modern Life 

By "Willis N. Btigbee 




A play descriptive of modern life, 
by Willis N. Bugbee. Bobbs mar- 
ries a suffragette and is left at 
hometo'tendthebaby. Hisfavor- 
itecousin comesto visit them, and 
his wife returns in time to witness 
a diBplay of affection which she 
misunderstands. While Bobbs is 
out she removes the baby to the 
n.ishbor'8. Bobbs notifies the 
-.lice that the baby has been 
idnapped. All kinds of babies 
are brought for identification, 
Kxplanations finally follow and 
Mrs. Bobbs is restored to wife- 
dom. The dialog sparkles with 
happy sayings, and the climax is 
pleasing. A great play. 4 males, 
3 females. SO minutes. 



Copyright, 1910 
By March Brothers 



MARCH BROTHERS, Publishers 
208. 210, 212 Wright Ave., Lebanon, 0. 




An An ti -Saloon Play 
A Washington Song 
A Book of Dialogs 

— BY — 

ARCHIBALD HUMBOLDT 

We publish no Tnore important items than these. 
They are too new for our catalog. 

tDe Saloon mm 60 

An anti-saloon play. A powerful arraignment 
of the saloon, made into a most engaging dialog, 
with enough plot to carry it along. A terrific 
bombardment of hot shot, embracing facts, com- 
parisons, log^c, song and story. More effective 
than a dozen addresses. Should be used in every 
saloon fight, and fiiadea part of every church and 
school entertainment. For high school pupils or 
other young folks. Two males, three females ; 
Three-quarter hour. 15 cents. 



tDe Song of tDe fidtcDet 

A humorous song for Washington's Birthday. 
It recounts the story and cites a parallel, also 
humorously points a moral. The range is suited 
to children's voices; the music is most pleasing. A 
climax for every Washington program. 25 cents. 



ScDool Plays for festive Days 

More than a score of the richest, spiciest origi- 
nal dialogs for all grades, from primary to high 
school, and for mixed grades. Some are instruct- 
ive, some are ethical, most are humorous, all are 
practical, and every one is a winner. No cos- 
tumes, stage settings or scenery required. Can 
be g:iven on any stage with the best results. No 
other collection of plays so good, so practical, so 
enjoyable. 80 cents. 

MARCH BROTHERS, Publishers, 
208. 210, 212 Wright Ave^ - Lebanon, Ohio 



M 



arried to a 
Ouffragette 

A Sketck of 
Modern Life 



By WiUis N. Bugtee 

~~"~~~" Author cf "^^~"^ 

Lively Dialogues," "Successful Entertainments," "Jolly 

Bachelors," "Merry Old Maids," "A Ckristmas 

Medley," "Easter Tidings," "An Information 

Bureau," "Little Mothers' Lullaby Medley,' 

"Old Song Medley," "At the Garden 

Wall," ' Dreams of Toyland," 

"The Fairies' Revelry,* 

"Model Dialogues for School Children, etc. 



MARCH BROTHERS 

PUBLISHERS 

208, 210, 212 ^Vrigllt Ave, Letanon, O. 



Properties. 

Two or more chairs ; small table or stand ; small 
cradle with furnishings ; small baby carriage or 
go-cart; four large rag dolls (one black) ; imita- 
tion telephone ; suit cases ; old dress skirt, with 
long rent in it ; needle and thread ; bouquet of 
roses. 

The telephone ring may be made by use of an 
alarm clock. 

Stage Directions. 

R. indicates right of stage; L., left; C, center; 
R. C, right center; L. C. left center, etc. 
The actor is supposed to be facing audience. 



Mlarried to a 
Suffragette 



Scene: A sitting room in the home of Mr. 
and Mrs. Bobbs. Entrances are at R., C. and L. 
Two or more chairs and small stand are on stage. 
A cradle is at R. Q The entrance, C, is par- 
tially concealed by draperies. 

Mr. Bobbs is discovered seated at R. C. rock- 
ing cradle. 

Mr. Bobbs (adjusting baby's clothing). 
There, darling, lie still and slumber to your 
heart's content. Mother'll be back bye and bye — 
in the sweet bye and bye. Daddy's got to wash 
the dishes and make the beds and sew up the 
tear in mamma's gown. (Exit at C. and imme- 
diately returns with dress skirt. Examines it.) 
Great Scott! I wonder how she ever got such a 
rent in her dress as that? (Holds it up for in- 
spection, then proceeds to sew. A pause in the 
soliloquy.) There used to be an old saying that 
ran something like this : 

"Man works from sun to sun. 
But woman's work is never done." 
I guess the poet didn't refer to me. Things have 
got badly warped in this household. When we 



6 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

were first married I was a self-respecting, re- 
spectable man of the world, but now, after a 
year and a half of married life, I have become 
a household drudge, a man of all work, a dish- 
washer, a chambermaid, a baby tender, and the 
good Lord only knows what else, while my better 
half goes about the town lecturing on politics 
and organizing women's clubs. Well, that's what 
comes of marrying a suffragette. By Jove ! if I 
ever have it to do over again— this marrying 
lusiness — I'll marry anybody else but a reformer 
— a dressmaker, a milliner, a stenographer; yes, 
even a scrubwoman. Any one of them would be 
likely to be at home some of the time. But, after 
all, what's the use of complaining. There's no 
way of remedying matters unless — unless I get a 
divorce. Sometimes I've half a mind to do it, 
but — there's the baby. (Sews for a moment and 
rocks baby with foot. Looks towarr' R. and 
jumps up.) By Jove ! here comes Cousin Madge. 
(Scurries about removing apron and concealing 
Loth apron and dress skirt by throwing them un- 
der table.) I haven't seen her since we were 
married. I'm mighty glad to see her, but — but 
I'd rzther she wouldn't know the true condition 
of affairs here. 

(Madge rushes in R.,, drops bap-o-age, rushes 
up to Mr. B. and shak^^ hands affectionately.) 

Madge. Oh, Cousin Hugh ! 

Mr. B. My dear Cousin Madge. 

Madge. Really, I am so glad to see you. 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 7 

Mr. B. Maybe you think I'm not glad to see 
you, too. 

Madge. Just think! I haven't seen you since 
you were married, and we used to be so chummy. 
How are you getting along? 

Mr. B. Oh, I am bearing up under it as well 
as could be expected. 

Madge. Bearing up under it? What do you 
mean? Where is Mrs. Bobbs? 

Mr. B. I was simply referring to married 
life. My wife isn't here just now. 

Madge. But, Hugh, I don't understand you. 
Your wife isn't 

Mr. B. No, she isn't dead — at least, physi- 
cally. 

Madge. Oh, Hugh she isn't (taps forehead) 
you know? 

Mr. B. Crazy? Not as I know of. I haven't 
seen enough of her lately to know. 

Madge. But she hasn't — you don't mean to 
say you are 

Mr. B. No; we're not divorced yet. It hasn't 
quite reached that point. 

Madge. Then you have separated? 

Mr. B. Ony temporarily. To tell you the 
truth, Madge, my wife has become one of these 
new-fangled reformers — a suffragette. Il; calls 
her away from home a great deal of the time — 
in fact, nearly all of the time. 

Madge. Well, I am thankful it is no worse 
than that. So that leaves you to look after the 



8 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

house, doesn't it? I had a suspicion when I first 
came in that — 

Mr. B. That I was wearing the petticoats? 

Madge. It had all the appearance of bache- 
lor's hall except — except the cradle, of course. 
Really, I've been so excited that I have entirely 
overlooked the baby. I must take a peep at the 
little "tootsy wootsy" now. (Goes to cradle and 
looks at "baby.") How old is she, Hugh, and 
what is her name? 

Mr. B. Well, he is about six months old and 
his name is Hugh McEUery Bobbs. 

Madge. Named after you ? 

Mr. B. He certainly wasn't named before me. 

Madge. Isn't he just the dearest little darling 
of a boy ! What color are his eyes, Hugh ? 

Mr. B. Light blue. He has his mother's eyes, 
you know. 

Madge. But I don't know. You must remem- 
ber I have never seen your wife. You were mar- 
ried after I went West. 

Mr. B. So we were — married in Boston, the 
home of culture and beans and women's rights. 

Madge (admiringly). And such delicate pink 
cheeks with the daintiest little dimple in each 
one. (Looks at Mr. B.) But you can't guess 
how I think he resembles you, Hugh. 

Mr. B. Haven't the slightest idea unless it 
is his nose 

Madge. No, it's his mouth. He has such a 
delicious mouth with lips like ripe, red straw- 
berries. 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. \) 

(Mr. B. turns to audience and exhibits a 
comical expression of surprise and pleasure.) 

Mr. B. Crushed strawberries, Madge? 

Madge. No, plump red strawberries, fresh 
from the vines. It's just the kind of a mouth 
that one likes to kiss. 

(Madge continues to admire the baby; Mr. 
B. turns to audience with same expression as 
before.) 

Mr. B. I say, don't spread it on so thick, 
Madge. 

Madge. (Turns quickly and looks at Mr. 
B.) Oh, as far as you are concerned, you have 
outgrown that stage long ago. 

Mr. B. Really. But for heaven's sake, don't 
wake the baby. You'll find that his mouth re- 
sembles both his mother's and mine in more 
ways than one. He has an extraordinarily 
strong pair of lungs, too. 

Madge. Well, just as soon as he wakes up, 
I must kiss the precious darling. 

Mr. B. No doubt you'll have time enough 
for that. I shall be glad to let you take care 
of him as much as you like. 

Madge (sits down beside of Mr. B. and 
prepares to listen). Now do tell me what has 
happened since I have been away. What has 
everybody been doing? Who's married and 
who's dead? I have heard scarcely anything 
from here since I went away two years ago. 

Mr. B. Everything runs along in the same 
old rut. Deacon Podger goes to church every 



10 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

Sunday and prays just as sanctimoniously as 
ever, and then proceeds to do up everybody he 
can every other day in the week. 

Madge. Why, Hugh, you ought to be 
ashamed of yourself. 

Air. B. It's a fact and everybody knows it. 
Your Aunt Samantha is wearing the same old 
shiny black silk dress she's worn since the 
year one. 

Madf!;c. Poor old soul ! 

Mr. B. Poor? She's rich as a Jew, 

Madge. But she thinks she can't afiford a 
better one. 

Mr. B. And Josh Puffet comes to see her 
regularly every fortnight as he's done for the 
last forty years. 

Madge. Sometimes they may surprise us by 
inviting us to their wedding. 

Mr. B. I wonder if 'twill be their golden 
wedding. 

(Madge hums portions of chorus of "Put on 
Your Old Grey Bonnet." 

"And througfi the field of clover, 
We'll drive up to Dover, 
On our golden wedding day." 

(Hugh appears to be thinking.) 

Madge. What are you thinking about, 
Hugh? 

Mr. B. Of what we will be doing, my wife 
and I on our golden wedding day. 

Madge. Oh, pshaw ! That's too remote. 
Let's talk of something in the golden present or 
the dreamy past. 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 11 

Mr. B. Reminiscences of the happy days 
when we were kids together? (Nudges her.) 
Do you remember the time we used to ride the 
red calf around the barnyard? 

Madge. Yes, I was seven then, and so were 
you. How funny he used to prance about and 
kicic up his heels just like a'~broncho. (She 
laughs heartily.) 

Mr. B. Hush ! Don't wake up the baby. 

(She rocks baby and hums to it.) 

Mr. B. And do you remember the husking 
bee down to Squire Hawkins' just after he built 
the new barn? 

Madge. What a broad range of time your 
thoughts cover seven, seventeen and seventy. 
Happy childhood, giddy youth and serene old age. 
Yes, Hugh, I remember that I was the only one 
who found a red ear that night. 

Mr. B. And I was the first to improve the 
opportunity. Do you know, ]\Iadge, you look 
just as young and sweet to-day as you did then. 
I wouldn't mind if somehow or other you were 
to find another red ear. 

Madge. Have you forgotten that you are a 
married man? 

Mr. B. Great are the hardships of a married 
man. But we are cousins — that makes a differ- 
ence, and you said my lips — 

Madge. No ; I said the baby's. 

Mr. B. That the baby's lips resembled mine 
and that they were just the kind one likes to — 
(Suddenly kisses her.) Madge jumps back in 



12 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

surprise. Mrs. B. enters at rear, just in time to 
see act. Astonishment and anger should be ex- 
pressed in her movements and expression. She 
stands a moment, then conceals herself behind 
the draperies. 

Madge. Why, Hugh, I didn't think you were 
in earnest. 

Mr. B. I must confess that I wasn't until 
that instant. I acted upon a sudden inspira- 
tion. 

Madge. What if your wife had happened in 
and seen you. 

Mr. B. Never fear. She is at this moment 
too deeply absorbed in the organization of the 
"Society for the Advancement of Women's 
Rights and the Suppression of Man" to see any- 
thing that is going on around home. She will 
never be the wiser. 

Madge. \Ne\\, I will forgive you this time as 
I have done so many times before, but I wouldn't 
have had your wife see you for anything. 

Mr. B. Don't worry. And now that baby 
is sleeping so soundly I have something to show 
you. I know you are passionately fond of 
roses. We have some of the finest ones you ever 
saw. Come and I will show them to you. 

Madge. Will the baby be all right? 

Mr. B. Perfectly safe. We will not be 
gone long. (Exeunt L.) 

(Enter Mrs B. very excited.) 

Mrs. B. So that's what goes on while I'm 
away from home, is it? My husband entertains 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 13 

Other women. I'd just like to know who the 
brazen thing is who comes into my home and 
holds such loving conversation with my husband. 
And I actually saw him kiss her. thought I'd 
never be the wiser, did he? Deeply absorbed 
in the Society for the Advancement of Women's 
Rights, am I ? Well, I suppose I should have 
been there this very minute if it hadn't been for 
the rumpus we had over the election of officers. 
I didn't know that Miss Purdy and Miss Knowl- 
ton could be so mean. I'll never have anything 
more to do with them or the society either, so 
there. Everything seems to go wrong, and now 
my husband has proved false to me. Oh. dear, 
what shall I do. (Sits down and buries her 
head in hands and sobs. Finally jumps up with 
determination.) I know what I'll do. I'll go 
away. I'll take baby over to Mrs. O'Connor's 
and leave it. Then I'll come back and get some 
of my clothes and we'll leave him and Spkicerville, 
too. I can work and earn a living for baby and 
myself, and I'll beg before I shall ever come 
back again. (Bends over cradle to take baby). 
Come, baby, we're going away forever — but no, 
it wouldn't do to wake him up. I'll just take 
cradle and all. 

(She picks up cradle and leaves stage, R. 
She is scarcely out of the door before Madge 
enters L., carrying bunch of roses.) 

Madge. My ! I haven't seen such pretty 
flowers this side of California. Hugh seems to 
take so much pride in them, too. He is just the 



14 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

same happy-go-lucky boy that he always was, 
but yet something tells me that he doesn't enjoy 
himself with his wife as much as he ought. Oh, 
Vd most forgot — I came in to see if the baby is 
all right. Turns to R. and looks astonished.) 
Why, he's gone — cradle and all. Oh, Hugh! 
Hugh ! the baby's gone ! She runs out scream- 
ing "Hugh ! Hugh ! the baby's gone." She soon 
returns followed by Hugh. Both are excited.) 

Mr. B. What — what's the matter? 

Madge. Can't you see? The baby's gone — 
cradle and all. 

Mr. B. So it is. It's been kidnapped. Run 
to the door and see if you can see anything of it. 

(Madge runs to R. while Mr. B. races about 
the room frantically.) 

Madge (peeping in at the door). There isn't 
a soul to be seen. 

Mr. B. Well, hurry and run down the street 
and ask everybody you meet if they've seen a 
kidnapped baby. I'll telephone for the police. 
(Goes to telephone.) Hello, central! Give me 
the chief of police. Hello ! This is Hugh Bobbs, 
64 Summer Street. We've just lost a baby — a 
baby boy. It's been stolen — kidnapped. We 
just left the house for a moment and when we 
returned it was gone. — Why, about six months 
old, yellow hair, blue eyes, lips like ripe — What? 
Oh, a light pink dress — Yes, offer a reward of 
one hundred dollars — anything to find it. Tele- 
phone me if you get any trace of it. — What? 
My number's 2-6-5. Well, hurry up or you'll 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 15 

be too late. Good-bye, (Hang's up receiver and 
leaves 'phone.) Now, I'll run over and ask 
Mrs. Waggles if she's seen anything of it. It 
is seldom that anything happens without her 
knowing it. (Exit L.) 

(Enter Mrs.. B. She looks cautiouslv about.) 

Mrs. B. Gracious ! They're out in the garden 
yet. He seems to be all taken up with that 
woman whoever she is. Well, when I get some 
of my things away he can make love to her as 
much as he pleases. (She steps from stage at 
C. and soon returns with armful of clothing, 
hats, etc.) I'll have to come once more and then 
I'm done. (Exit R.) 

(Enter Mr. B. at L.) 

Mr. B. That beats me. I haven't any clue 
yet. When Mrs. Waggles doesn't know what's 
going on I can tell you it's a pretty mysterious 
case. She said she thought she saw Susie come 
into the house a little while ago, but she must 
have been mistaken. Something must be done. 
We must find it before Susie gets home. I de- 
clare she's coming now. 

(Enter Mrs. B.) 

Mr. B. Oh, Susie, something dreadful has 
just happened. 

Mrs. B. Yes, I am aware that something has 
happened. 

Mr.B. Then you have heard about it ? Madge 
and I went out to look at the roses for a minute 
and when we came back — 



16 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

Mrs. B. What were you doing before you 
went into the garden, I'd like to know?, 

Mr. B. Just talking over old times, and when 
we came back — 

Mrs. B. Talking over old times? Then you 
have known her for some time? 

Mr. B. Known who? 

Mrs. B. Why, that woman you are so in- 
fatuated with — Madge, or whatever her name is. 

Mr. B. Of course. I've always known her. 
Oh, Susie, I was so excited I forgot to tell you 
that Cousin Madge has come to make us a visit. 
Haven't you heard me speak of Cousin Madge 
Huntington? We \,ere children together — just 
like brother and sister. 

Mrs. B. (aside). Have I made a mistake? 
(Rushes up to him.) Yes, I remember now, and 
oh, Hugh, I'm so glad. 

Mr. B. Glad? This is no time to be glad. 
Can't you see that the baby is gone? 

Mrs. B. I guess it hasn't gone far. 

Mr. B. But it really has. When we returned 
from the garden there wasn't a sign of the baby 
or the cradle either. It's been kidnapped. 

Mrs. B. (extending arms toward him appeal- 
ingly). Oh, Hugh, forgive me. 

Mr. B. Forgive you? For what? 

Mrs. B. I am to blame. The baby is at Mrs. 
O'Connor's. 

Mr. B. At Mrs. O'Connor's? What do you 
mean? 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 17 

Mrs. B. Listen and I will tell you. We had 
some trouble at the club and I came home earlier 
than usual. When I came into the house you 
were talking so earnestly with your cousin that 
you did not hear me. I concealed myself for a 
moment and I saw you — 

Mr. B. You saw me kiss Madge? (Laughs.) 
And you thought I was a wicked, wicked man? 

Mrs. B. But I haven't told you the worst of 
it. Will you promise to forgive me if I tell you ? 
Mr. B. Forgive you? I'm glad to do any- 
thing now that I know the baby is safe. 

Mrs. B. Well, I made up my mind to leave 
you and Spicerville forever. I had taken the 
baby over to Mrs. O'Connor's until I could get 
my clothes. 

Mr. B. Great Scott' You aren't thinking of 
doing it now, are you? 

Mrs. B. No, now that I have found out who 
the young woman is. Where is Madge? 

Mr. B. She's out looking for baby. I have 
already telephoned to the police department to 
make a search. Here's Madge now. 
(Enter Madge out of "breath.) 
Madge. Oh, Hugh, I haven't found it yet, 
but the police are all out looking for it and 
everybody's excited. Why, you're laughing — 
you haven't found it? 

Mr. B. Yes. thank God, I have found it. 
Madge. Where was it? 

Mr. B. Safe and sound at Mrs. O'Connor's. 
Madge. How did it ever get there ? 



18 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

Mr, B. Oh, there was a Httle misunderstand- 
ing. My wife — 

Mrs. B. Hugh! 

Mr. B. By the way, Madge, allow me to 
present you to my wife. Susie, this is my old- 
time chum and cousin, Madge Huntington. 

Madge and Mrs. B. (embracing). I am so 
glad to see you. 

Mr. B. (aside). It really looks as if they 
were. 

(Enter boy wheeling a go-cart with doll in it.) 

Neii'sboy. Hi, mister, is this your kid? I 
found it out in front of Smith & Jones' store. 
There wasn't nobody 'round so I just brought it 
right along. 

Mr. B. No, my boy, that isn't our baby. 

Boy. Oh, Gee. Now I got ter wheel dis thing 
back again. A man said you're goin' to pay a 
reward for findin' it an' I was 'most sure of 
gittin' dat hundred dollars. 

Mr. B. I'm sorry, but we only want our own 
baby. 

Boy. Dat's jest de way it goes. Times is 
mighty hard. A feller can't never make no 
money now-a-days 'thout workin' for it. (Exit 

R.) 

(Enter Pat O'Neil, R.) 

Pat. Begorra, misther, I've found yer baby. 
'Twas settin' down in the shtrate as continted 
as a pig on an Irishman's kitchen floor. Jist 
hand me over thot hundred dollars and I'll be 
afther lavin' at onct. 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 19 

Mrs. B. Why, that's Mrs. Wheeler's baby. 
Whatever will she say? 

Pat. Do ye be afther sayin' 'tis not vour baby 
at all, at all? 

Mrs. B. Oh, no ; that isn't our baby. 

Pat. Bedad, thin, yez can carry him home if 
yez know where it belongs. I'll jist lave him on 
the front porch. (Exit R.) 

Madge. This is becoming quite interesting. 

Mr. B. I should say it was becoming serious. 

(Enter policeman with a baby on each arm, 
one black and one white.) 

Policeman, Here's a couple of kids. Don't 
know whether they belong to you or not. One 
of 'em here's a sort of brunette. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Hugh, just think of it ! 

Mr. B. I'm very thankful to say that neither 
one of them belongs to me. We have just found 
our baby. 

(Mrs. B. leaves room at C. She removes 
coat, hat, collar, etc., and is ready to appear as a 
daintily dressed lady at her next entrance.) 

Policejtian. You've found it, have you? Then 
I'll hustle back and inform the chief. You see 
we're locking everybody up in the station house 
that we find carrying a baby. The women we 
took these from was that mad they acted like 
lunatics. (Exit R.) 

Madge. I don't blame them. Just think how 
thoii DOor mothers must feel to have their babies 
taken away from them and then have to be locked 
up besides. 



20 MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 

Policeman (putting head in at door). There's 
a half a dozen more babies headed this way. I'll 
tell them you've got more than you can attend to 
already. (Exit.) 

Mr. B. It's a mysterv where they all come 
from. (Telephone bell rings.) I wonder if 
they're beginning to come by telephone. (Goes 
to 'phone.) Hello! Yes — what? Is that so? 
(To Madge.) Where's Susie? 

Mrs. B. (entering). Here I am. 

Mr. B. Here's more good news. You've 
been elected president of the Woman's Rights 
Club. 

Mrs. B. Tell them that I won't accept it 
under any consideration. 

Mr. B. (at the telephone). Hello! She says 
she refuses to accept the office under any con- 
sideration whatsoever. Good-bye. 

Mrs. B. And what is more, I shall resign as 
a member of the society tomorrow. I shall de- 
vote my time hereafter entirely to my home and 
my family. 

(Enter Mrs. O'Connor, R., with baby.) 

Mrs. O'Connor. Thin yez'll be afther wantin' 
your precious baby. I just brought him over so's 
to be ready whin the critical toime came. Ye 
see, I've been through the mill mesi'.f. Mony's 
the toime Mike an' mesilf have had little tifts 
■and' 'twould all blow over in a little whoile. 

Mrs. B. Thank you, Mrs. O'Connor. You're 
a good neighbor. (To Madge.) And, Madge, 
I hope you will make us a good long visit. 



MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. 21 

Madge. I shall gladly accept your invitation. 

Mr. B. And I rejoice that I have not only 
found my child that was lost, but that I am once 
more blessed with a loving wife and a pleasant 
home. 

(Mr. B. and Mrs. B. step to front and 
stand side by side. Madge stands L., and Mrs. 
O'Connor R.) 

Mrs. O'Connor. Hivin bliss the both o' ye 
and the baby. I do be thinkin' ye'll be afther 
havin' a second honeymoon. (She places baby 
in Mrs. B.'s arms.) 

(Curtain.) 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
^^ ?0 1910 



olljr^^ N^m Bttn^ 



EFFIE LOUISE KOOGLE. 

AtUhor of "In Music- Land," "Kris Ktingle 
Jingles," "The Colonial Song Novelties," etc. 



The songs of this composer are always 
more than singable ; they combine a quaint 
freshness, and a novel appropriateness that 
is unusual. These new songs will be wel- 
comed because of their real merit and use- 
fulness. 

H tinier Culldby. 

Surely a provoker of pleasant dreams. 
Beautiful lullabies are always popular, and 
this one will prove unusually so because of 
the happy combination of sensible words, 
appropriate for any singer, the soulful mu- 
sical setting, the eflFective expression, the 
dainW and fitting piano part, and the sooth- 
ing, fascinating melody. For adult singer, 
medium voice (d to e). 35 cents. 

Cittfe tbdttKsdiving OlcrKcri 

An action song for one or more little 
girls. Describes the preparation for the an- 
nual feast-day most effectively. A pleasing 
melody which little singers will relish. 
Not difficult. Especially appropriate for 
Thanksgiving, but can be adapted to any 
Other day. 25 cents. 

Cbaitkful Bobby. 

A nolo for a small boy, A delightful 
thanksgiving number. Expressive words, 
a tuneful melody with range suited to a 
small boy's voice, and an appropriate ac- 
companiment. Bobby gives good reasons 
for being thankful — from a boy's view- 
point. 25 cents. 

MARCH BROTHERS, Publishers, 
208, 210. 212 Wright Ave., Ubanoa. Ohio. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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